


Just Makes Cents

by bellamythology (onemanbellarmy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemanbellarmy/pseuds/bellamythology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So what? Clarke —”</p><p>“Clarke,” interrupted the girl in question, “is not paying for a senior servant. Clarke needs new art supplies for her final projects.”</p><p>“This is why you’re my favorite,” Bellamy said, grinning, slinging an arm around her shoulders.</p><p>(Clarke wasn't going to bid on <i>anyone</i> for senior servant day. But, well, best-laid plans and all that.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Makes Cents

**Author's Note:**

> So my school does this thing called senior servant day, and ofc it inspired this. Because I needed some fluffy Bellarke and Blake siblings. Also, the Bellamy & Abby scene is totally inspired by [verbaepulchellae](http://archiveofourown.org/users/verbaepulchellae)/[verbam](http://verbam.tumblr.com/), whose fic made me realize I needed these two to interact in a positive context.
> 
> Also, this is by far the longest thing I have written in one sitting lately, so yay for that? Do feel free to point out errors if (when) you find them, the last thing I wanted to do was edit.
> 
> I do apologize for the title. My post-finals brain thought it was really punny.

“Are you gonna bid on anyone?”

Clarke very deliberately closed her locker and zipped up her backpack before turning to her best friend’s little sister. “Is that your way of asking if I’m gonna bid on your brother? Because the answer is no.”

“Why not?” Octavia pouted. “I would’ve saved up for this, but I didn’t know it was happening!”

“Because he hid all the fliers and hacked your Facebook so that you wouldn’t find out, because he didn’t _want_ you to know it was happening,” Clarke said, amused.

“And you didn’t stop him? Clarke!”

She just shrugged.

“Now some asshole’s gonna outbid me,” Octavia bemoaned, slouching against the lockers.

“As opposed to you two assholes?” said Bellamy, hiking his messenger bag more securely over his shoulder so he could ruffle her hair. Octavia ducked away, scowling. “Really, did you not consider that maybe I don’t want _my sister_ buying me for senior slave day? Not least of which is because it’s an actual class fundraiser — we need actual bids, O, not just the two dollars you have left over from your allowance this month.”

“So what? Clarke —”

“Clarke,” interrupted the girl in question, “is _not_ paying for a senior servant. Clarke needs new art supplies for her final projects.”

“This is why you’re my favorite,” Bellamy said, grinning, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

 

To no one’s surprise, the bidding for senior servants was fast and furious, and especially so in the case of one Bellamy Blake. Senior class secretary, All-State clarinetist and band section leader, soccer player — plenty of people knew him, and liked (or hated) him enough to drive the bidding to fifty dollars by the end of the first week.

“It’s insane,” remarked Raven, who was helping with the technical logistics of the event. Which really meant she was in charge of the Google Sheet that had all the relevant information. Any power in Raven’s hands was a little hazardous, but she happily abused her role to give their friends all the details on the rising bidding war. “I mean, sure he’s hot, but do you think all these people bidding on him also know he’s a dick?”

“Absolutely not,” Clarke replied, laughing and petting his hair when he pouted up at her. He sighed and settled his head more comfortably in her lap, extending his legs to cover the rest of the couch they were sitting on. “But” — she automatically glanced around for Octavia before continuing, even knowing Bellamy’s sister was still at play practice — “they probably want his dick.”

He whined and turned his head to bite lightly at her jeans-clad thigh.

She tugged at his curls in retaliation, ducking her head so her hair would hide her blush. “Stop that, you’re not an actual dog.”

As if on cue, Artemis bounded into the room and made a beeline for Clarke, nosing at her shins, panting up at her hopefully. She disentangled herself from Bellamy to scoop him up — her puppy was getting bigger every day, so she was going to cuddle him as long as she could. Bellamy wasn’t getting any bigger (hopefully), and he definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Bellamy grumbled, painstakingly pulling himself into an upright position. “He’s cuter than me, huh?”

“Pretty much.” Clarke’s smile was bright, and he would’ve been lying if it said it wasn’t like an adrenaline shot to his heart. “But don’t feel bad, you’re still cute.” And as if his heart weren’t already under enough duress, she leaned over and brushed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth.

Clarke’s heart pounded as she pulled back, holding Artemis as a shield between them. They’d always been tactile — abnormally so for purportedly platonic best friends — but this felt like crossing some kind of line. Or maybe it was just the way she felt when she did it, like she was getting away with something.

“So, I should get going.” Raven watched them with a knowing glint in her eye, winking at Clarke when she noticed. “I’ll give you two losers some space and privacy, save you the trouble of getting a room. Though, I know Jake is due home soon, so you might want to go up to hers if you keep going.”

Denial never was an option, around her. “ _Bye_ , Raven!”

Once she was gone, Bellamy jumped up, not actually trusting himself to be alone with Clarke when they were sitting so close together. “Netflix?”

“You and your documentaries.” That was Clarke-speak for _yes_ , of course; she had already freed the dog to head for the kitchen to make microwave popcorn.

 

Never let it be said that Octavia Blake wasn’t resourceful.

When Bellamy finally managed to corner her at lunch, he was torn between several emotions, chief among them pride and annoyance. “Did you seriously start babysitting just so you could bid on me?”

“You’re up to eighty dollars,” she pointed out. “Mom wouldn’t give me an advance on my allowance, so I had to do _something._ ”

He finally decided on amusement. “People actually trust you to watch their small children?”

“Go float yourself, Bell, I’m perfectly capable of looking after kids.”

“I find that hard to believe, considering you still use insults we came up with in elementary school.”

“They’re effective enough; you’re not worth anything stronger.”

He just laughed. “Love you too. Don’t waste all your hard-earned money on me, alright?”

“No promises.”

 

“Clarke, thank God I found you.”

“Raven? Don’t you have —”

“You know Sinclair doesn’t really care what I do in Engineering Lab. Anyway, he thinks I’m in the bathroom with _lady problems._ ”

“What’s so desperate that you had to use _that_ excuse in the middle of your favorite class?” Intrigued and a little worried, Clarke set her AP prep books aside to focus on her friend. That was the nice thing about having free periods — you made your own schedule for the hour.

“Senior day’s tomorrow, so bidding closes tonight.”

“Yeah, and? Did Bellamy not clear a hundred bucks? Because if he doesn’t, he owes me the difference.”

“I can’t believe you two still bet on everything. No, he’s currently going for a hundred and twenty. To Roma.”

“Fuck, seriously? Why would you even bid on your ex?”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “Humiliation? Like Octavia wasn’t scheming up something embarrassing for him.”

“That’s different, though.” Clarke may have been an only child, but she’d been best friends with the Blakes since seemingly forever. She knew them, their dynamic and their quirks. “It couldn’t have been that bad. Nothing that would leave lasting damage.”

“True.” Raven smirked suddenly, to Clarke’s surprise. “Aren’t you gonna do anything about it?”

Clarke blinked at her. “What could I possibly — oh. _Oh._ ”

“Yeah. Might be time to leave your denial behind, babe.” Raven patted her shoulder. “You’ve got until eight.”

 

 **raven:** u ready to find out which poor sucker spent $160 on you?

 **bellamy:** HA clarke owes me 60 bucks

 **bellamy:** oh yeah ofc hit me. who am i serving tmrw?

 **raven:** … its clarke

[bellamy is typing…]

[…]

[bellamy is typing…]

[…]

[bellamy is typing…]

 **bellamy:** what did u do

 **raven:** y do u assume i did anything

 **bellamy:** cmon reyes dont play coy. srsly what did u do

[seen 9:17 pm]

 

 **clarke:** u still have that suit right?

 **bellamy:** the one ur mom gave me for xmas after she found out i didnt have a nice one? yep

 **bellamy:** why

 **clarke:** wear it tmrw

 **bellamy:** srsly?

 **clarke:** dead srs. i wanna get my moneys worth

 **clarke:** i didnt pay 160 bucks for nothing

[bellamy is typing…]

[…]

[bellamy is typing…]

 **bellamy:** k, cya tmrw

 **clarke:** that’s it? ur just gonna do it?

 **bellamy:** lowkey hoping that if i cooperate ull be nice and not execute ur nefarious schemes

 **bellamy:** notice i said schemes plural not singular

[clarke is typing…]

 **bellamy:** dont even try to deny it clarke i know u

 **clarke:** wasnt going to, dork. cya in the morning

 **clarke:** by which i mean six

 **clarke:** by which i mean ur picking me up before school

 **clarke:** and u should prob stop by starbucks first too

 **clarke:** night <3

 **bellamy:** CLARKE

 

To Bellamy’s eternal embarrassment, it was Abby who opened the door. “Good morning, Bellamy. You look … nice. Clarke said something about senior servant day?”

He nodded. “She awake yet?”

Abby shook her head, smiling. “I’m sure she’s probably still in bed. You can come wait inside; you know it’ll probably be a while. It’s good to see you, Bellamy — seems like it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, college apps are finally done with. College letters are starting to come in now, actually.”

“Oh, do you know where you’re going yet?”

Luckily Bellamy was prepared for this line of questioning — had been since he started researching colleges two years ago, in fact — and he managed to maintain the conversation automatically as he waited for Clarke.

Finally Abby glanced at the clock and shook her head. “You might have to go wake her up, or you’ll both be late to school. Must’ve been a late night.”

He nodded and picked up the coffee he’d brought her, hesitated, and set it back down on the counter. “Think it’ll make it easier to lure her downstairs if I leave her black tea lemonade here?”

 

Clarke _was_ still in bed. His heart stuttered at the sight of her, curled up in a tangle of blankets, hugging the unicorn pillow pet he’d gotten her as a joke, cheek against its fuzz the way she used to do against his shirt when they were little enough to have sleepovers.

“Hey, Clarke, rise and shine,” he said loudly, trying to snap out of it. When she didn’t stir — she always was a heavy sleeper — he tugged the covers away, sitting down on them to keep her from pulling them back around her. “ _Clarke._ ”

She mumbled something into her unicorn.

Hesitant, he leaned over her, only for her to let go of the pillow pet to grip his shirt and pull him down. Suddenly she was rolling him under her, eyes open and bright, too alert for her to have just woken up.

“I was wondering how long it would take to get you up here,” she breathed, making herself comfortable as she straddled his abs. Evidently she intended to keep him here a while.

Not that Bellamy was complaining, but he was honestly a little confused. (Not displeased though — that was the exact _opposite_ of how he felt.) “Hi to you too?”

“You look really nice,” Clarke mused. “You even did your hair — you know I hate it when you gel it back.”

“I do know.” He managed a smirk — banter was familiar ground, safe. “Couldn’t just let you dictate how I looked today, could I? You know I don’t follow orders well.”

She bit her lip, shifting deliberately, and _holy shit_ that was distracting. (More so for some parts of him than others — _not now, boner_ was a lot less funny when you were thinking it unironically and desperately.) “Even when I’m the one giving them?” she said finally.

 _Fuck it,_ Bellamy thought, and leaned up to curl a hand around the back of her neck, moving in slow enough that she could pull away if she really wanted to. “Why don’t you find out,” he murmured.

Her hands tangled in his curls as they finally closed the small distance between them, lips meeting. They’d never done this before, but it was as natural to them as breathing — just another piece of the Bellamy-and-Clarke jigsaw falling into place.

“Shit, your mom’s waiting downstairs,” Bellamy remembered as they finally reluctantly pulled apart.

Clarke’s grin was all kinds of mischievous. “Well, she thinks I’m still asleep, and we all know it’s not that easy to wake me. I’d say we still have a few minutes before she gets suspicious.”

 

Never having had a boyfriend or girlfriend before, Clarke wouldn’t have called herself a possessive person. But she really couldn’t deny that it was satisfying to look over and see the artistically lettered sign pinned to Bellamy’s blazer: _Property of Clarke Griffin._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr as [befreckledrebelking](http://befreckledrebelking.tumblr.com); come talk to me!


End file.
